The Jerk & the Psycho
by Broken Oken
Summary: Definitely AU. Miley Stewart was just your average teenaged girl living as a celebrity on the side. However, nothing seemed to bother her. Well, until he appeared anyway. MileyOliver oneshot.


Hey, guys, it's Kaylee again! I know, I know, I should be updating "Dear Stupid" because everyone keeps begging for me to (has people attack her)… which is weird, because I didn't expect people to love it as much as they do. So thanks for anyone who's R&R'd me on that. ) But I've been having some rough decisions about what I want in Chapter Five, eek. But yes, ANYWAYS, about THIS story.

I found this English short story I wrote for my sophomore year, that I received an A+ on. (Yes, go me.) And I decided that if I made a few changes to it, it would make an awful cute Moliver story.

So, if some names make no sense to you in this, it's because I didn't edit it thoroughly enough to make all the name changes necessary.

Also, it's totally AU. Meaning, Alternate Universe. Because… well, you'll see.

Anyways, without further ado, here we go!

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Hannah Montana. However, I do own this story. So don't steal or I'll bite you very hard. Rar.

**THE JERK AND THE PSYCHO**

She had a steady type of at ease mind. She was physically small, but with a heart so powerful, the world seemed like everything to her; she wanted to know and love it all. She wasn't experienced with life about anything; careless and free, always wondering, but never knowing. With her eyes so deeply blue and skin bronzed ever so slightly; she had nothing to worry about in her everyday life. She could go to school, hang out with her friends, laugh until she cried, watch T.V., and listen to C.D.'s just as any other teenaged girl does.

There was, of course, a tiny problem. She lived a kind of double-life. Not only did she take the role of an everyday teenager trying to ease her through high school, but also she was secretly a girl singing her heart out through a microphone to an adoring crowd of fans. It may seem that the job of being two people would stress the girl, but it did quite the opposite – it excited her. It put her on edge with life, so that she never knew what was to be thrown at her.

Nothing seemed to bother the young girl – she was so untroubled with herself, always smiling instead of frowning, and laughing instead of crying (unless it were _of_ laughter, of course). And for a while, it _was_ true – **nothing** bothered her.

Then, **he** appeared.

It had been just another normal Sunday breakfast at her favorite cafe, a comfortable place named JoJo's Coffee, and as usual, she was sketching out lyrics of her wild, untamed mind onto the blank white placemat before her. Of course, since she was not disguised as her "other life" self, it would seem to a bystander that she was just your typical pretty girl, dreaming of stardom and fame, when in reality, she already had it.

Sighing, she glanced around for something interesting to maybe inspire her. She tapped her pencil loudly against the table, unknowingly bothering some of the surrounding usual Sunday morning customers, who had been previously happily chatting away with their friends as they ate their Blue Plate special of eggs and bacon (only $3.99 on Sundays!). Tables were cluttered and the waitresses seemed busy and stressed out as usual.

The entrance door's bell rang, catching the girl's interest. Curious, she pushed back some of her loose, somewhat curly brown bangs to examine the incoming customer. She could only see the back of his head – dark, medium-lengthened hair. In his left hand there appeared what looked like to be a fire-red skateboard. Narrowing her eyes, she scoffed to herself and went back to her unfinished song.

"Hey, those are pretty good lyrics," said an alien voice from behind her, causing the startled girl to draw a very dark gray line across the paper. She gasped in horror and looked up to face her "masterpiece's" destroyer, and then her eyes formed to narrow slits.

It was the skateboard boy. And here he was now with the red skateboard in one hand, looking nervously down at her with a crooked, pearly white-toothed smile. It was a warm smile, however, and it naturally curved onto the friendly features of his face. His eyes were brown, currently enlarged at the sight of the girl's angry expression.

"You… almost… RUINED MY NEW SONG!" she yelled at him accusingly, however, not looking at him, but at his black t-shirt with the words "STUD" stenciled across it. This show of cockiness caused her to scoff even more.

This outburst did more than just startle the amazed boy; it gained others' interests also. Many people in the café were now glancing over in the two's direction.

"Well, geesh, dude, I'm sorry! I'm not the one who just scribbled all over it! I can't help it if I scared ya!" he said jokingly, still smiling sincerely as he had been five seconds earlier.

However, the girl did not take his apology in any kind of friendly way at all. It caused her to become more aggravated, and she stuffed her things away into her purse. Standing up to face him, she then realized he was probably a whole head taller than she was. He stared down at her with an eyebrow raised and folded his arms.

"You have a lot of nerve, you know that! And I am NOT a dude!" she said crossly.

He rolled his eyes, smirking. "Alrighty, there, girly, obviously you aren't a morning person… Sorry for bothering ya, though. Later," and he glanced back down at her, adding, "_**dude**_."

She made somewhat of a _'hmph!'_ sound and stormed off out the door, and the bell promptly ringed after her. He rolled his eyes for a second time and sat down at the table where she had been sitting. He looked down and realized she had left her wallet. He couldn't resist, being the nosy type, so he poked it open, and there displayed in front of him was her driver's license.

"Miley Stewart." He said aloud to himself. "Well, Miley, you might be needing this."

Just as the waitress was about to approach his table, he jumped up, grabbed his skateboard, and headed out the door.

* * *

Miley was in her car now, angrily muttering things to herself. She reached down fiercely to shift into drive, when she saw something through her windshield. It dawned on her that _he_ was standing there in front of her, looking as absolutely innocent as humanely possible, holding something brown and oddly familiar…

"THAT'S MY WALLET! THIEF!" She screamed, although he could hardly hear her from outside the car. He held it up and shook it a little mockingly, chuckling at the same.

"AAHHH!" She yelled as she unbuckled herself and jumped out of her car. "Who do you think you are?! Jacking people's stuff like this?! I haven't even known you for five minutes, and I can tell you're already a jerk! Wait, I don't even know _your name_ and I know you're a jerk!"

The boy just shook his head, handing her the wallet like it was nothing. "You should see yourself right now. Overreacting over pretty much nothing," he said, and she snatched it from him, glaring suspiciously into his eyes. "You're really judgmental, too. I'm not a jerk because jerks don't return things like wallets full of cash to people – they steal it instead. And my name's Oliver Oken, by the way. And you're Miley, right?"

"Stalker!" She shouted dumbly, obviously not thinking he had seen her driver's license.

Oliver chuckled some more to himself. "Yeah, that's definitely me, a stalker," he said sarcastically. "Trust me, if I decided to stalk _anyone_, it wouldn't be a freak-out kind of chick like you."

Miley took this rather offensively, but yet also kind of funny. He had no clue about her alter ego life. For all she knew, he could be one of her crazy stalker-ish fans, and he wouldn't even know that the object of his affection was standing right in front of him. Nobody would, since her brown locks were distinctly different than the blonde wig she wore as a celebrity, and also the fact that she now wore glasses as her "normal life" self, since people were beginning to question the remaining similarities.

"I'm not a freak-out kind of chick! And, well, like any girl would even want someone as…" She rummaged through her mind for some kind of word. "Er, _gross_ as _you_ to stalk them!"

"Whoa, there, let's not be talking about the way I look now," he said, throwing his hands up in defense, yet the grin on his face did not disappear. "And for your information, this isn't the kind of 'Thanks for returning my wallet,' treatment I expected."

She looked almost surprised; her eyes grew large and wide like a twin pair of basketballs. "Oh, well… thanks, and good-bye," and with that, she walked back into her car, leaving the boy standing there smirking to himself.

"She's an odd one… _cute_, but odd."

* * *

"I hate Mondays," Miley grumbled to her best friend as she entered the doors of Seaview High School, her book bag slung over her shoulder as usual.

"Yeah, you're telling me," the blonde girl beside her replied. "Teachers always seem to make tests on Monday, so they can make us study our butts off over the weekend." She pointed to her tired eyes and the dark bags beneath them. Miley smiled a bit, trying not to giggle. "But hey! At least there's supposed to be some new hottie from California here today. And you know me, I loooove me some boys!"

"New… _hottie_?" Miley raised an eyebrow at the statement. It was then the image of the boy from the café ran through her mind. And like magic, Oliver appeared from around the corner, wearing a forrest green t-shirt. For some reason, this seemed to bring out his face, and Miley had no idea why. She gulped to herself. So maybe he wasn't _totally_ unfortunate looking…

"Haha, hey, psycho!" he said, waving to her like they were old friends. "You go to school here, too? What are the chances of that?!"

"You _**know**_ him?" Miley's friend asked with questions in her eyes.

Miley bit her lip, staring at Oliver furiously. "Not really, we kind of bumped into each other yesterday at the café… He ruined some lyrics I was working on. He's a jerk."

"Miley!" He called, walking towards her now. "At least I know one face here," and he jokingly put his arm around her, which she didn't hesitate to throw off. "Fine, geesh, Monday Monster Syndrome, eh?" He took a sudden turn of his eyes to her left. "Oh, and who's your friend here?"

"H-her name's Lilly," Miley said, stuttering for some weird reason as a flash of what she wanted to call anger went through her mind. But maybe it was something else… Jealousy, perhaps?

_Oh, right,_ she thought. _She can have him for all I care._

Lilly stared at Oliver in bewilderment. "Um, hi."

"Hey, Lilly, I'm Oliver, but I'm sure Miles here has told you all about me. I'm the jerk who ruined her 'work of genius'," he waggled quotation mark fingers, "and stole her wallet!" Oliver extended a hand. Lilly shook it carefully as if she might catch some sort of contagious disease, yet never taking her eyes off his face.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Miley finally asked him, sick of the interaction going on between them. Oliver turned to her.

"I don't think there's anything better than seeing you freak out about nothing, Miles," he replied. "But since you obviously don't want me around, I'll go and _try_ to find something better to do. Haha, later!"

"Don't call me Miles; it's _Miley_!" She yelled down the hallway as he walked away.

Lilly spun to her suddenly, eyes wide and green. "MILEY! He's, like, gorgeous!"

"Who's gorgeous? Wait, **OLIVER**?" She practically spat his name in disgust. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Um, you've got to be kidding _me_. _Look at him!_" The two girls looked down the hallway at Oliver where he was talking to a group of freshman girls who were all giggling like a bunch of lunatics.

Miley raised an eyebrow again. _What were they all giggling about?_

"I don't know, Lilly, I guess he's kind of cute."

"Oh, just admit it, Miley. He's gorgeous, but you won't admit it because you're still sore after he probably accidentally 'ruined your new song'. And you know what? I think he likes you!"

It was Miley's turn to spin around. "What!" she exclaimed.

"Um, yeah, didn't you just see the way he came over here and _put his arm around you_? I don't see him making hardly any physical contact with anyone else, except shaking hands and whatnot."

"It's just because we met yesterday," Miley reasoned. "And he was being so ridiculous as I pulled away in my car, showing off on that dumb skateboard—"

"He skateboards like me?!" Lilly squeaked. "Um, _why_ don't you like him again?"

"Simple, he's a jerk. You see the way he acts like he's so much cooler than everyone else? How can I ever be interested in someone like that?"

"Oh, just give him a chance, you never know."

Miley gave her an unconvincing, irritated look, and pointed over to him, as he was now on someone's skateboard in the middle of the hall, attempting an Ollie (no pun intended). "He's already going to get a detention on his first day here."

Lilly shrugged. "Hey, what's wrong with dating a bad boy for a change? Anyway, we better get to first period. I don't feel like getting yelled at by Mr. Tower again."

"Whatever… and yeah, let's get going," Miley remarked, and the two began walking down the hall to first hour.

* * *

After a rather boring morning of lecturing teachers, it was finally lunchtime. Miley was quietly darkening some lines over some lyrics she had written a week earlier, every once in awhile reaching into her bag of Doritos for a bite. Lilly sat beside her as usual, munching away at her own lunch.

"Aw, Miley, can't you just stay away from the celebrity business for a second and talk to me?"

"I would, Lilly, but I need to finish it or it'll never leave my brain alone," Miley said emotionlessly. Lilly sighed, but she was used to this. Miley always seemed to be in her own little world if she was working on her music.

"But, Miley, it's done!" Lilly retorted loudly. "Just look at what you've written, there's nothing to be added, it's done, it's—"

"Amazing."

Startled, the two girls turned around, and there stood Oliver Oken with a lunch tray, grinning from ear to ear.

Miley groaned, "_You're_ in my lunch? _Great_."

"Isn't it?" And he slammed his lunch tray down beside her notebook, causing the girl to squeak and cover her whole body over it.

"Wow, you're something else," he remarked with a chuckle.

Lilly simply stared at the boy. "Miley's kind of psycho over her music."

"Really?" He said, sarcasm dripping from his tone, and taking a bite out of his cheeseburger. "I hadn't noticed."

Miley winced upon seeing the food roll around in his mouth as he talked. "Like I've said before, you're gross," she said bluntly, and stared back down to her paper.

"Well, now, that's not very nice, Miles," he continued teasingly, talking with his mouth full, only this time chomping in front of her face just to get on her nerves. "You'd think you'd be all nice to me since this is my first day here; traveling to California from Wisconsin isn't really so easy."

Miley glared her eyes up at him, but the rest of her face was still turned toward the notebook. _Neither is coming from Tennessee… _She felt like puking when she saw his teeth chewing onto the last of the cheeseburger bits. "_Are all people from Wisconsin this irritating and disgusting_?" she mumbled, thinking she was quiet enough for only her to hear.

"Irritating and disgusting?" Obviously she had been wrong, and Oliver continued, "I don't mean to be. I just think you're… eh, what's a nice way of putting it?" He laughed seeing the girl roll his eyes at his joke. "Okay, you're just so… _different_ than everyone else here. I mean… you're like the only girl so far who's trying to get away from me rather than be next to me. Some brilliant sophomore girl named Jenna has already claimed my new name to be 'Smoken' Oken'."

"_That's_ what I'm talking about, right there!" Miley slammed her pencil down. "You're so cocky!"

Lilly just stared at all this, amused. As "cocky" as the statement may have seemed, it was ultimately true.

"Calm down, girly," he replied, and all of a sudden his smiling face turned into a more serious one. "Hey," and without even asking, he reached for Miley's face, pulling off her glasses. She would've screamed at him if it weren't for the fact she was trying to figure out why her face all of a sudden felt so hot.

"What are you doing—?"

But he gave her a weird look to shut her up, and then she felt her face grow even hotter. His face was sort of blurry to her, but not enough for her to not tell he was just _staring_ at her.

"Why don't you wear contacts?" He asked, his face kind of resembling like he was in shock or horror.

"I do wear contacts sometimes, but glasses are less of a hassle." Miley could feel herself twitching. What if he could tell who she _really_ was?

"Well, you should wear contacts more often… you can see more of your face this way," he said, smiling almost shyly. "Anyone ever tell you that you look kind of like Hannah Montana?"

Miley felt her cheeks blush at the usage of her alter ego's name. She immediately picked her pencil up to preoccupy her thoughts with her music again. But she still didn't have her glasses on, so it just looked like a bunch of scribbles put together.

"Oh my God," he unexpectedly continued as he put two and two together. "YOU **ARE** HANNAH MONTANA, AREN'T YOU?"

Lilly launched herself into the air, her hands clamping tightly around Oliver's mouth. "Tell anyone, and I will break your legs off and stick them in your ears!" Oliver looked at Lilly, horrified by her evil glare she now had plastered onto her face.

Miley didn't know what to say, so she giggled uneasily. "Um, yeah, uh, seriously, this is a huge secret… Oliver… I don't know how you are able to figure it out your second day of knowing me when people I've been going to school with for years _haven't_…"

Lilly let go of Oliver's mouth, and he said shakily, "You mean… I'm actually sitting at a lunch table with a _celebrity_?! Oh my God, you're even hotter in person!"

Miley stared at him, flabbergasted. After about ten seconds, Lilly decided to speak for her. Well, more along the lines of squealed, "_**EEK!**_ Are you complimenting her? Are you saying she's pretty?!"

Oliver smiled more, somewhat embarrassed at his outburst. "Er, I'm not saying she's ugly."

Lilly gave Miley an infamous "I told you so" expression. Miley reached for her glasses, struggling to put them back on. The blurry vision of Oliver cleared, and suddenly, her heart did a flip-flop. Why hadn't she noticed that smile before? And those  
eyes… _Oh, Gosh, those brown eyes.  
__  
_"Um, th-thanks, Oliver," she stuttered awkwardly, unsure why the pencil in her hand was now beginning to shake.

"Yo, psycho, you feelin' alright?" He asked her, taking note of her bright red face and shaking hand. "We can't have you getting sick… You have a concert tonight… that I'm going to…"

"Y-y-yes," she somehow got the word out of her mouth. "I'm f-fine! And don't take my glasses away again, you jerk!"

Oliver sat there for a second and let out a small laugh. "Who would have thought that Hannah Montana could act so cute."

"_**CUTE?**_" Miley about choked on air; her face was boiling of heat. "What the – is this some lame way of trying to hit on me?"

Oliver laughed more. Nothing ever appeared to faze him; he was even taking the Hannah Montana news surprisingly well. "Hit on _you_? Oh, please, Miss Montana, I couldn't handle dating you for more than five seconds."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

"One, you're a celebrity. And two, you freak out so easily!"

"I do not!"

"Do, too. Especially when it comes to music," he mused. "I mean, _chill_. It's _just music, _even if it may be your life."

Lilly put her head down on the table. "Oh, no," she whined. "I really hope you didn't just say that."

His words rushed into Miley like a knife. "Just… MUSIC?!" She hissed loudly, drawing many people's attention. She could care less – she was now standing up and glaring down at him. He now had a pained expression on his face, almost like he knew nothing good would come out of this. "I'm guessing you don't know ANYTHING about music! You couldn't tell the difference between a C Chord and a G Chord! I doubt you even know the names of the notes in the first place! Don't you _dare_ say, 'it's just music'! And if you do, make sure I don't hear it! You can go jump around on that dumb skateboard of yours and—"

She stopped mid-sentence as Oliver was now standing up, and all of a sudden, _he_ was the one looking down at _her_. Miley did her best not to change her angry look, as difficult as it was for her to do so. "Okay," he said calmly, but coldly. "I won't insult your 'musical genius' self, but don't you even _think_ about insulting mine! You accuse me of knowing nothing about music, but you don't know the first thing about skateboarding! Do you even know what a _360_ is, Miley? Do you?" He watched as her bottom lip quivered a bit, but she did not reply. "That's what I thought! You are so freaking overdramatic!"

Miley had to hold back everything not to cry right in front of the whole cafeteria, who now had nothing better to do but watch the whole scene put on in front of them. "Well, you're just a jerk! A stupid, ugly, heartless jerk!"

"_**Yeah!?**_ Well, you're annoying!"

"You idiot!"

"SNOB!"

"Dumb—"

"Music-freak—"

"Skateboarding PUNK!"

"Why you—"

"JUST SHUT UP!" Miley yelled at his face before he could say another word, her withheld tears finally streaming down her face. "Stay away from me!" Without even grabbing her things, she ran out of the cafeteria, leaving a stunned Oliver.

Lilly just glared at him. "Good job," she said, hurriedly running after her best friend at the speed of light.

The cafeteria's spectators all watched Oliver, wondering what he was going to do next. He glared at them all and kicked a chair beside him, muttering things only audible enough for himself to hear.

"What the hell, Oken… what the hell."

* * *

"Oh, just come out already, Miley! He's just a big, fat, cocky jerk who doesn't appreciate music! You'd think he'd understand more now that he knows who you really are—"

"I knooooww," sobbed Miley from inside the bathroom stall. "But no one's ever really insulted me like that before! Lilly, he's bugging the living daylights out of me! He's made me cry! And I haven't cried in like _two years_! _And_ I haven't even known the kid for a full forty-eight hours yet! And now he's going to tell everyone who I really am, and my life is going to be oooveeerrrr!"

Lilly leaned up against the stall Miley was in and sighed to herself. "Miley, I'll be quite honest with you. No, I've never seen you cry since we started high school here. Really, I've never even seen you too upset or angry before, especially not over a guy, unless you count that one time with Jesse McCartney. But I'll tell you what – this Oliver's guy's got you all figured out, and he barely even knows you. He knows what your weakness is—your music obviously—and he's using it against you to get a response. And trust me, no guy goes out of this much of his way to make fun of a girl if he doesn't like her. And if he likes you, he won't tell a soul."

"But he's so horrible!" persisted Miley. "He's a jerk, Lilly! You heard him in there!"

"Yes, he's a jerk, _buuuut_ he's a cute jerk, eh?"

Miley's reply was muffled by her sobs.

"Oh, Miley, he's not that bad of a jerk. He called your lyrics amazing! And I think the reason he's got to you because you've never had a guy pay this much attention to you, and I think you're feeling a little of the feelings he feels for you."

"PSSHH, YEAH RIGHT!" Miley's response was loud and clear this time.

"Admit it. Denial isn't healthy."

"Whatever," she muttered darkly, and Lilly let out another sigh. This was going to be more difficult than she thought… Interesting, but difficult…

* * *

Miley walked into her last period of the day with a confident smile on her face. She wasn't going to let any stupid, dumb skater boy bring her down! Even if this dumb skater boy knew about Hannah Montana… _Ugh, gotta get this off my mind, be happy, Miley!_ She told herself. It was her favorite class, Art. She had not signed up for a Music class in time her freshman year, so she chose Art instead. And since this was her senior year, it was Art IV.

She made her way over to her usual seat when she noticed someone sitting in it already. She stopped, frozen against her will.

"Good afternoon, Miss Stewart!" Her teacher, Mrs. Matt greeted. "I see you've noticed our new student."

Oliver Oken turned around in his chair with uneasy eyes. The two stared at each other for a full ten seconds. "Hey," Oliver said quietly.

"Miss Stewart, please sit down."

Miley took a seat next to him, her eyes never leaving his. "What are you doing here?" She whispered as Mrs. Matt turned off the lights. There was now a PowerPoint presentation, and bolded across the screen there read "POINTILLISM".

"I'm in Art, obviously," he whispered back, smiling.

Jenna tried not to smile back. "Uh, sorry about earlier…" she looked down, averting those gorgeous eyes of his. Wait, since when did Oliver have gorgeous eyes? She blushed at the realization.

"It's okay, psycho, I forgive ya," he smiled his charming infamous smile at her, which did not help Miley's new blushing problem. "I'm sorry, too. I'm surprised I'm not in the tabloids yet for insulting a freaking pop star…" He felt satisfied with himself as he watched her lips curve into a smile. "And sorry I come off as this huge jerk to ya… I don't mean to be."

"You're a guy; it's your nature, even if you are 'Smoken' Oken'."

"_Hey!_"

"Yes, Mr. Oken?" Mrs. Matt asked the boy, who turned an amusing shade of red, causing Miley to burst out in a fit of giggles. "And what is so funny, Miss Stewart?"

"Nothing!" It was her turn to go scarlet. Oliver just smiled at her and for some reason, this caused Miley to smile, too.

The rest of the period dragged on as Miley and Oliver took notes on pointillism. Miley didn't really understand why, but occasionally she would glance up in the boy's direction. The light of the presentation reflected into his eyes, making them a lighter and more defined brown than ever. Miley would gaze at him for awhile until he'd notice, and when he did, he'd just smirk, and she would look away and blush until the process would repeat itself over again.

The day ended soon enough—_Thank God_, Miley thought—and Miley was on her usual boring walk home alone. It had been an odd day, well actually an odd past two days—meeting a cute skateboarder was not something she had in mind.

"_Cute_?" She spat the word aloud in disgust at her own thoughts. "More like obnoxious!"

"People really _are_ gonna think you're a psycho if you keep talking to yourself like that," she cringed at the person's voice. "Don't want that going around worldwide about Hannah Montana. But yeah, I'm guessing you're talking about me being cute, so it's okay."

"Ugh, no! You just keep proving yourself to be more self-centered than you are, Oliver!"

Oliver just rolled his eyes. "And you overreact about everything, Miss Montana," he stated simply, jumping onto his beat-up red skateboard, zooming by her as he took off.

"SHOWOFF!" She yelled, and he turned back around, an angry look in his eyes, screeching to a halt right in front of her.

"At least I'm not a loudmouth," he said, narrowing his eyes with a small smirk as he stepped closer.

"Jerk," she hissed back, also taking a brave step forward,

"Draaammmma queen."

_Closer._

"Idiot."

"Double-life freak."

Closer yet.

"Freaking retard!" She screamed. He started laughing then at her lame comeback, and her face turned almost as red as his skateboard.

"I hate you!" She found herself yelling into his face, angry that he was laughing at her insults. However, she didn't entirely realize until that moment that his was only a few inches from her own. And he was looking at her like he was confused.

"Yeah? Well, I hate you, too!"

He took a single step forward.

And then, _it_ happened.

He leaned forward, kissing her full on the lips. At first Miley struggled to break free, until he put his arms around her, so she then relaxed back into the kiss. After what seemed like a full ten seconds, they broke apart, except his arms still were wrapped around her back. Both their faces resembled the color of ketchup, except Oliver's was smiling as smugly as ever while Miley's just stared at him in disbelief.

_Oh, my God. Oh, my God,_ Miley's head kept repeating over and over again. For some reason, she started smiling, too, and the smile just wouldn't go away. Miley was at a loss for words, and she bet that even if she could find something to say, her mouth wouldn't let it come out anyway.

"Miley…" Oliver began softly, beginning to lean in again.

"Oliver… you aren't just kissing me because I'm Hannah Montana, right?" Miley asked, but seeing him lean in and not reply, she closed her eyes anyway. But nothing seemed to be happening. Confused, she opened her eyes and he was just staring at her. "Uh," the brunette stared back, blushing madly. "What?"

He shook his head with a very obvious grin on his face.

"Of course not,_ but I still think you're a psycho._"

**END.**

* * *

Aww, look at how cute I make things. The moliverness makes me want to throw confetti everywhere. Okay, not really, but yes! Review, please! And then go check out my other story, why don't you? (hint, hint) 


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